


new jersey transit

by mullethyuck



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dialogue Heavy, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mild Blood, Near Death Experiences, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Strangers to Lovers, bus rides, in the most literal sense, stain remover as a plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25683691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mullethyuck/pseuds/mullethyuck
Summary: The divine works in stranger ways than Renjun ever imagined.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 75





	new jersey transit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moondanse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moondanse/gifts).



> IT'S [KELLY](https://twitter.com/dreamrunmp3) DAY!!! happy happy bday to the one who got me hooked on renhyuck to begin with <3 it was only a matter of time till i wrote them and today is the perfect occasion
> 
> kelly my love i hope you like this!! i know it's not your usual style but i had so much fun writing it so i hope you enjoy it even a little,, sorry this is all i'm able to give you for your bday but i'm also sending you lots of hugs and good vibes so you have the best day ever <3 love you mwah!
> 
> one more thing: i got the idea from a tumblr [post](https://deepwaterwritingprompts.tumblr.com/post/618849982248812544/text-i-met-a-half-ghost-on-the-midnight-bus-an) that was just too perfect to pass up, the title from a [song](https://youtu.be/7mwf4MGgf88) i listened to on repeat while writing, and moral support from [amanda](https://twitter.com/speIIbond) aka the best beta i could've asked for

Renjun steps up through the bus door at exactly 4:23am, out of breath from running down the block to avoid missing his ride home. He wheezes and holds out his bus card, offering the driver a thin, “Hi, Taeil,” as he gathers himself in a feeble attempt to look slightly less disheveled. He's not sure how well he succeeds.

“Morning, Renjun!” is the cheery reply he gets, and he really does wonder how Taeil can be so consistently pleasant at this hour. He just nods, heading to a seat in the middle of the bus and dumping himself into it.

Most of the seats are deserted, as they tend to be at this hour, but there are two figures sitting in the last row. Renjun adjusts the stiff collar of his work polo as he eyes them; one of them, he sees every day. The other, he's never seen before. It's the same as always.

The passenger who always shares a ride with him is a boy about his age, and Renjun typically wouldn't notice something like a repeat bus companion but the guy is always wearing such an obnoxiously orange hoodie that it's impossible to miss him. And he really does always wear it, the same outfit every day - like a cartoon character, or Mark Zuckerberg. Renjun can't fathom why, though technically he's wearing the same thing every day, too. Work uniforms don't count, though. Fluorescent orange hoodies are a different story; one of these days Renjun will have to sue the guy for retinal damage.

Hoodie guy may ride the same bus every day, but Renjun’s never seen him alone, or with the same person twice. That's intriguing on its own, but the weirdest part is that hoodie guy never interacts with his travel buddy. They just sit there in silence while hoodie guy chugs energy drinks and the other person stares into space for lack of anything better to do on a near empty bus at ass o’clock in the morning.

Like clockwork, hoodie guy pops open the tab of a can of liquid gasoline and starts drinking it with all the urgency of a dehydrated horse. That's Renjun’s cue to put his earphones in, drowning out the noise with the sound of his favourite podcast, and he's asleep in minutes.

Taeil wakes him up when they get to his stop, like he always does. Renjun thinks Taeil really deserves a raise for all the shit he deals with on a daily basis.

Especially since hoodie guy and his friend are still on board when Renjun departs. Just like every day.

-

Renjun has one day off, then it’s back to the usual routine.

Today, hoodie guy is with a little girl; she can’t be older than seven or eight. Renjun wonders if it’s his sister or something, but then he’s distracted by the frantic way hoodie guy is rubbing at the palm of his hand. Renjun can’t see what it is exactly that he’s trying to buff out of the skin, but it must be something nasty because hoodie guy’s brow furrows with concentration. _He’s so weird_ , is all Renjun thinks before putting his earphones in and actively ignoring his surroundings.

When Taeil wakes him up three stops later, hoodie guy has stopped his frazzled scrubbing and is instead staring down at his fingernails like they hold all the secrets of the universe. Renjun seriously doubts that, but then hoodie guy is running a thumb along the edge of a hangnail and it comes away wet with something Renjun refuses to identify. Renjun thinks if hoodie guy somehow does possess such cosmic information, he’d really rather not know.

-

It’s a week later when Renjun is genuinely shocked as he boards the bus.

He’s climbing up the short stairs, bus card in hand, when he notices several things in quick succession: first of all, hoodie guy is alone, for the first time in the two years Renjun has been taking this bus (and by extension, sharing a commute with him). Second, the fabric of his precious hoodie is covered in something that’s a suspicious shade of red, all smattered along the hem. Third, he looks like he’s about five seconds away from causing a scene, if the way he’s panicking is anything to go by. Renjun doubts Taeil would be too hard on him, if he did, but Renjun would really rather avoid witnessing a complete stranger spiral into a mental breakdown.

Fortunately - or in hindsight, maybe not so fortunately - Renjun has something that might help. He makes his way to his seat, throws his backpack into the chair, and rummages around for a solid thirty seconds before he finds what he’s looking for. When he straightens up again, hoodie guy is staring down at the stain dejectedly. Renjun’s never seen anyone look so pitiful.

“Here,” is all he says when he walks over and holds out the stain remover pen he carries with him everywhere he goes. “It’s gonna take forever, but this’ll get it out.”

Hoodie guy looks at him like he’s the insane one. “What?”

They hit a bump, and Taeil offers a gentle, “Sorry!” as Renjun stumbles toward hoodie guy, nearly landing in his lap. He opts to sit in the chair next to him, instead. “Here,” Renjun repeats, holding the pen out.

Hoodie guy takes it, tentatively, and when their fingertips brush his skin is so cold it sends a shiver up Renjun’s arm. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?”

Renjun’s jaw nearly drops, but he hides it behind a curt, “Get the stain out.” The _obviously_ goes unspoken, but the implication is in his tone. He resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Oh,” is all hoodie guy says, like Renjun’s just described quantum physics to him, or something. “Thanks.” He uncaps the pen and gets to work, soaking the garish fabric with the remover as fast as can be expected when working with such a small tool.

They sit in silence for what feels like eons, but they aren’t even to Renjun’s stop yet so it can’t have been that long. Hoodie guy is making steady progress, the red splatter looking more watered down by the second. Renjun is tempted to ask what caused such a stain, but he doesn’t think finding out would be such a good idea. He has to say _something,_ though; comfortable silence with his close friends is something Renjun cherishes; empty silence with a stranger, not so much. He has a near compulsive need to fill it.

“So I read this book the other day,” he starts, and hoodie guy just hums, which he takes as a good enough sign to continue. “It’s about the history of vampires, and -”

Hoodie guy cuts him off without even looking up from his lap. “How can there be a history of something that doesn’t exist?”

“Vampires may not literally exist, but there's still a history behind the myth,” Renjun counters rather shortly. “The book is more about the psychological history of it all, you know, like why people have always been so preoccupied with death and the undead and all that. And the archeological evidence that shows it.”

Hoodie guy pauses his cleaning just long enough to give Renjun a funny look. “Why _are_ people so paranoid about death?”

Renjun doesn’t really know how to answer that. “Are you not, like, curious?”

“About death?” hoodie guy clarifies, and Renjun nods. “Nah. I can tell you exactly what’ll happen when you die.”

Renjun’s opening his mouth to ask what the fuck he’s on about, but then the bus slows and Taeil is calling Renjun for his stop and the moment is broken. Hoodie guy puts the cap back on and hands the pen over to Renjun without another word, and Renjun grabs his backpack and heads for the door. When he pauses for a split second on the steps to look back at the boy he’s constantly leaving behind, hoodie guy is smiling down at his beloved top, which is back to its infuriating shade of orange.

-

After that, Renjun senses something unspoken between them. He doesn’t have a name for it (doesn’t even know hoodie guy’s name), but he can tell there’s been a shift. They’re still strangers, still stick to their usual seats across the bus, but every now and then their eyes will lock and Renjun feels like all the air has been punched out of his lungs. He can’t decide if he hates the feeling or not. He doesn’t know what to do with that.

To put it shortly, it feels like _something_ should be happening, except it never does. They reach Renjun’s stop, he tiredly yanks his earphones out, gives Taeil a mumbled goodbye and goes on his way.

But then, hoodie guy starts talking to him.

First, it’s a simple, “That colour looks good on you,” the day Renjun actually remembered to bring something to change into after work and looks like a halfway functional human being, rather than a helpless slave to capitalism. Then a, “Get some rest,” as Renjun departs after a particularly long shift. It’s always brief, almost offhand, but hoodie guy sounds like he means it.

Renjun starts talking back. “Oh, you’re growing your hair out? I like it,” one night when he notices hoodie guy’s normally shaggy mop is looking fluffier in the back than it used to be. It’s curling around the hood of his sweatshirt, just above his shoulders. 

“I saw a movie today, and the ending was really predictable,” he says a month later as he sits with his backpack on his lap, pulling at the fraying end of a strap, pointedly not looking back to make eye contact. “Actually, all of it was really predictable.”

“What was so predictable about it?” hoodie guy asks, sounding indifferent. Maybe mildly curious.

Renjun turns ever so slightly in his seat, and hoodie guy looks a lot more intrigued than he sounded. “Literally _everything,_ it was so infuriating. They tried to cram every cliche into one big mess and I already wanted to rip my hair out like, twenty minutes in.” He huffs, but hoodie guy does not seem convinced, which only gets him more worked up. “There was a talking dog, and cancer, and a custody battle, and Ferrari racing, and a goddamn assault charge -”

Hoodie guy is actively laughing at him now, jostling the oblivious old man next to him. Renjun briefly wonders, not for the first time, who hoodie guy’s companions are. “None of that sounds even remotely predictable. How the fuck did you see it coming?”

Renjun slumps into his seat, exhausted just from the memory. “It was like a damn soap opera. You’d have to see it to understand, but it was so bad, I swear to god.”

Hoodie guy just shakes his head. “I think I’ll pass.” Renjun can’t say he blames him.

-

Weeks later, the unthinkable happens, _again._

Renjun climbs onto the bus, scans his card, makes small talk with Taeil, and turns to see hoodie guy sitting all by himself in the middle of the last row. He falters, grabbing onto a handrail as the bus stutters to pick up speed, and stares at hoodie guy for what might be a small eternity.

Hoodie guy, as if he can sense the question rattling around inside Renjun’s brain, nods. Renjun slowly makes his way to the seat beside hoodie guy, like he’s approaching an easily startled wild animal. “What are you always listening to?” hoodie guy asks when Renjun’s halfway in the chair.

“Huh?” he says intelligently, because Renjun is nothing if not sharp-witted. Hoodie guy just points to his collar, and Renjun looks down to see his earphones where he’d draped them around his neck earlier. “Oh. Just a podcast.”

“A podcast?” hoodie guy parrots, and the words sound strangely foreign coming from him.

“Yeah,” Renjun agrees. When hoodie guy makes no indication of understanding, he continues, “It’s like, an audio series? Usually it’s got a theme or it’s people talking about something they’re experts on, or whatever.”

Hoodie guy hums thoughtfully. “What’s the one you listen to?”

“It’s about art and all the stuff that comes with it, I guess. It’s for artists, or like, anybody who creates things.” He shrugs.

Hoodie guy’s eyes go wide at that. “What's it like, to create something?”

Renjun tilts his head, thinking. He’s never had to explain this before. “I think it’s the closest thing we have to magic.”

“Sounds fascinating,” hoodie guy says, interest piqued. “Do you create anything?”

Renjun shrugs again. “I, uh. I paint, sometimes.”

Hoodie guy grabs his arm, shaking him at the elbow so hard his glasses nearly slide off his nose. “Can you show me?”

Renjun pushes his glasses back into place, pulling out his phone to scroll through the photos he’s taken of his most recent pieces. He swipes through his camera roll, explaining each one, and feels a little swell of pride at every impressed noise his work earns him.

Renjun doesn’t notice their arms are still entwined till they reach his stop and he’s forced to detangle himself from his companion as hoodie guy pulls one of his cursed energy drinks out of nowhere and pops it open. Renjun grabs his backpack, stands up, and is surprised to feel a gentle tug on his wrist. He looks back at hoodie guy, one eyebrow lifted. “You can sit with me whenever you want, y’know,” he says, the unspoken _even if I have someone else with me_ hanging between them.

“Okay,” Renjun says neutrally. Hoodie guy drops his arm, going back to chugging his drink.

It’s not till Renjun is nearly out the door that hoodie guy all but yells, “And stop calling me hoodie guy! My name’s Donghyuck!”

“Renjun,” he calls as he hops onto the pavement. It doesn’t occur to him till much later that he’s never called Donghyuck _hoodie guy_ to his face.

-

The next day, Renjun takes Donghyuck up on his offer, against his better judgment.

“Hey, Taeil,” he says as his bus pass beeps against the card reader.

“Morning, Renjun!” Taeil, ever constant in his charming ways, chirps back.

Renjun doesn’t let himself think about it too much, just power walks to the back of the bus to plop down into the seat next to Donghyuck. “Hey,” is all he says.

“Hey,” Donghyuck replies as he looks up from inspecting his nails. “Didn’t think you’d actually sit with me, to be honest.”

Renjun plays dumb, because sometimes it’s just easier that way. “Why not?”

Donghyuck cuts him a look, quirking a brow and hooking a thumb in the direction of the person sitting next to him. It’s a girl about their age, probably, with long black hair and perfect skin. Almost _too_ perfect. “Who’s she?” Renjun asks, because it seems as good a place to start as any.

Donghyuck makes a face like he’s having some kind of internal debate. About what, Renjun has no fucking clue, but he gets over it fast, at least. “Can’t tell you.”

Renjun stares at him for a second, then flicks his gaze down to the girl’s hands, which are folded neatly in her lap. Their tremor is visible even from several feet away. “What, are you cheating on your girlfriend or something?”

Donghyuck actually barks out a laugh at that. “No,” he says, which does nothing to convince Renjun.

“Well?” Renjun prompts. He’s getting more uneasy by the second, even if Donghyuck seems unfazed.

Donghyuck claps a hand on his shoulder like a coach hyping up the star quarterback before the homecoming football game. “Some questions are better left unanswered.”

Renjun doesn’t know what that means, either, but he figures it’s best not to ask.

-

The next Tuesday, Donghyuck has a baby with him. Not even in a carrier, just laying there on the seat, like an accident waiting to happen.

When he says as much, Donghyuck just waves him off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

That, of course, prompts Renjun to rattle off a spiel of every bad thing that could happen to a baby ever, much less a baby on a nasty city bus with nothing to protect its soft little head from hitting the uneven floor. He’s on the verge of a panic attack when he can see Donghyuck holding back a laugh. “This isn’t _funny,_ you absolute idiot! What if you accidentally kill someone’s baby? Or even injure it? You’ll never be able to babysit again, and you’ll have to live with the knowledge that -”

“Wait, wait, that’s good,” Donghyuck cuts in inexplicably, laughing harder now. “Babysitter.”

Renjun, who picked up the baby sometime mid-rant and is now bouncing it on his hip, cannot fathom what could possibly be funny about anything he said. He has a lot of questions, but he settles on, “Isn’t that what you are?” because it’s the easiest thing to unpack.

Donghyuck shakes his head, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “My job has a lot of names, but I never thought about it like that, holy shit. I’m changing that to my official title.”

Renjun doesn’t think there’s any point in trying to reason with Donghyuck in this state, so he just grumbles and sits beside him, cradling the baby till they reach his stop. Its eyes look unfocused, only half-processing the world, and Renjun really hopes that Donghyuck hasn’t already given the poor thing some kind of brain damage.

When he gets off the bus, Donghyuck puts the baby back on the seat next to him.

-

After the baby incident, Renjun refuses to sit next to Donghyuck for a solid week, despite Donghyuck doing his best to annoy Renjun into compliance. (To be fair, he apologizes a lot too, but really how could he ever make up for endangering such a helpless child like that?) Eventually, Renjun caves, because something is telling him to give Donghyuck the benefit of the doubt. He never was all that good at holding grudges, anyway.

Today, Donghyuck has a middle-aged woman with him, and she looks like the kind of lady who treats everyone like they’re her own child. The kind of person who welcomes everyone she meets into her home, and means it when she says they can come anytime they want. Something about her reminds Renjun a little bit of his own mother, and he misses her.

He must look nostalgic, because Donghyuck asks him what’s wrong. When Renjun explains, Donghyuck says, “Don’t you see your mother all the time?”

Renjun shakes his head. “She’s back in Jilin.”

“Why are you here, then?” It’s a simple question, so innocent.

“I came for school,” Renjun says simply. In reality it was a lot more complicated than that, but he still doesn’t think they’re at the point in their relationship where he can dump all his emotional baggage on Donghyuck. Or rather, that Donghyuck would want to hear it.

Maybe he doesn’t, or maybe he senses Renjun’s trepidation, but either way, he asks a different question. “What are you studying?”

Renjun flashes a smile; this, he can talk about. “Linguistics.”

“Linguistics?”

Renjun isn’t sure if Donghyuck’s looking for an explanation or an expansion, so he offers both. “Yeah, like the study of languages. You can use it for a lot of things, but I wanna be a speech therapist. Maybe a professor, one day, but that’s a lot more school.”

Donghyuck just nods. “If you enjoy it, then you should do what makes you happy. Not everybody gets that.”

Renjun exhales sharply through his nose. “Yeah, trust me, I know.” He gestures to his crumpled work uniform for emphasis.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck says, even though it isn’t his fault.

Renjun just shrugs; working at a gas station is shit, and probably a threat to his safety (His coworker Yukhei got robbed once. The guy threatened to stab him with a plastic knife.) but it pays the bills, for now. That’s more than a lot of people have, so Renjun can’t complain. Even if he does have the occasional meltdown and wish he could crawl back into his mother’s arms like he used to when he was a kid.

He looks back at the woman beside Donghyuck, and starts when he sees the tears streaming down her face. He swats at Donghyuck’s stomach, which earns him a glare, but then Donghyuck is following his line of sight. “What?”

Renjun jerks his head in her direction. “Don’t you see?” he whispers. “She’s crying.”

Approximately the entire spectrum of human emotion flashes across Donghyuck’s face in the span of three seconds. He looks like he’s trying to decide how to respond, something in him torn. “She’s fine,” is what he finally says, at full volume.

Renjun pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he sighs as he stands up. “If you won’t help, I will.”

Donghyuck is suddenly panicking, eyes wide as he reaches out for Renjun’s arm. “Renjun, don’t -”

Renjun ignores him, naturally, as he’s too busy leaning down to address the woman. “Sorry, ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude, but I noticed you’re upset. Is there anything I can do to help?” It sounds stiff, even to his ears, but he’s never had to comfort a crying passenger on a bus before. He’s a little out of his depth. “Ma’am?” he repeats when there’s no answer.

When the woman doesn’t so much as flinch, he looks at Donghyuck. “I told you not to.”

Renjun doesn’t dare touch her, but he’s unsure why she won’t respond. “Ma’am, do you need help?” he tries one last time, before straightening up and giving Donghyuck a distraught look. “What the fuck?” is all he has to say, at this point. Tears are still streaming down the woman’s cheeks. Donghyuck pats Renjun’s vacant seat.

“What’s wrong with her?” Renjun asks when he’s back in his usual spot. “Why is she like that?” At this point not even he’s sure if he’s talking about the crying or the unresponsiveness. Probably both.

Donghyuck, for the first time since Renjun’s known him, looks like he’s completely at a loss for words. “I’m not really sure how to tell you this,” he says vaguely, and even to Renjun it sounds like a copout.

Renjun folds his arms petulantly. “Try.”

Donghyuck inhales deeply, holding his breath for a moment before letting it out. “I really can’t.”

“Can’t, or _won’t?”_ Renjun all but demands, patience wearing thin. “Surely you have some explanation for why you’re always on the same bus, always with someone new, and then I never see them again? And you’re always acting so weird about it.” He then proceeds to rattle off every questionable thing Donghyuck has ever done, in detail. It takes a while.

When he’s done, Donghyuck just looks resigned to his fate. “I’m like, the grim reaper.”

If looks could kill, Donghyuck would’ve died on the spot. “You’re the grim reaper,” Renjun says tonelessly, just in case he misheard.

He’s waiting for Donghyuck to correct him, but “I’m not the grim reaper, I said I’m _like_ the grim reaper,” is not exactly what he’d been looking for.

“How does that make any difference?” he asks incredulously.

Donghyuck has the audacity to roll his eyes. “The grim reaper doesn’t exist, idiot. That’s a myth, a legend, a fairy tale. I’m real.” When it’s obvious Renjun isn’t following, Donghyuck sighs and adds, “I’m what inspired the stories.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Renjun asks with a furrowed brow.

“I guide departed souls into the arms of my best friend, the god of the underworld -”

Renjun holds up a hand to stop him. “You’re best friends with _Hades?”_

“Hades?” Donghyuck looks weirdly puzzled for someone who claims to know so much about the origin of the grim reaper. “No, his name is Jeno.”

Renjun needs several moments to process this new information before he has an awful realization. “Does that mean you’re Thanatos?”

Donghyuck levels him with a look. “I don’t know who the fuck that is and you know it.”

It doesn’t matter, really. “Hold up. What’s Taeil do?” Renjun asks, pointing at the accused.

Donghyuck huffs. “Obviously, he transports the souls to the underworld. I’m just here for the ride.”

Renjun’s brain is well and truly short-circuiting. He’s definitely going to have an aneurysm, or a stroke, or something, any second now. He just sits there dumbfounded, looking at Donghyuck like he’s making this shit up as he goes. Which, to be fair, he might be.

Then they reach Renjun’s stop, and he all but runs out the door.

-

Renjun’s shift the next day is the longest seven hours of his life.

It’s slow enough that he has ample time to think about everything Donghyuck said, which is dangerous for a lot of reasons. Reasons like, Renjun is actually starting to think that Donghyuck is a messenger of death, or a spirit, or whatever. The grim reaper. The title doesn’t really matter, but the fact Renjun believes it does.

Also, there’s the fact that Donghyuck being death incarnate would explain a lot. Maybe that’s why Renjun buys into it; he can’t think of another way to justify Donghyuck’s eccentric behaviour, or his fleeting, nameless companions, or the dried blood that seems to forever stain the underside of his fingernails.

Point is, he’s sold. Maybe he’s just as crazy as Donghyuck is.

When 4am hits, he clocks out in record time, rushing to gather his things and sprint to the bus stop, despite the fact none of his efforts will make the bus come any faster. He realizes this as he sits alone in the harsh light of a street lamp for a solid ten minutes.

When the bus finally pulls up, he already has his card out and barely has time to greet Taeil before he’s barreling to the back row of seats.

“Why did you tell me?” he challenges the second he throws himself into the chair.

Donghyuck seems like he’d been expecting as much; he takes a sip from his energy drink, and it’s the calmest Renjun’s ever seen him. “You made me.”

“Bullshit,” Renjun argues. “You wouldn’t do anything because someone made you. So why’d you really tell me who you are?”

Donghyuck considers him for several heartbeats before he mutters, “You have pretty eyes. They make it easy to trust you,” like he’s afraid to admit it out loud.

Renjun squints at him. “Are you seriously using a line on me after you told me you’re the personification of death?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and crosses his heart. “I would never.”

“You would.”

“Fine, I would. But I knew you wouldn’t tell anyone.” Donghyuck gives him a tiny smile, a little token of his trust. “Besides, who would believe you? The living aren't even supposed to be able to find this bus.”

That doesn't track. “Then how come I've been riding it almost every day for the past two years?”

“Beats me,” Donghyuck says, unaffected. “But Taeil does have a soft spot for you.” As if on cue, Taeil offers a supportive thumbs up from the driver’s seat, which Renjun returns (albeit much less enthusiastically, because no one can match Taeil’s zest for life).

“And you?” Renjun asks, one eyebrow raised.

Donghyuck’s smile gets even bigger. “I think you’re the worst.” He slings an arm around Renjun’s shoulders, taking another swig of his canned battery acid.

Renjun makes a face, dramatically pushing off of Donghyuck’s chest to distance himself from the drink, holding onto Donghyuck’s other hand to steady himself. “Not as bad as you.”

-

It’s nearly impossible not to get close to someone after finding out such an earth-shattering secret about them. Renjun sees Donghyuck in a new light; or rather, he learns to understand where Donghyuck is coming from. It’s a give and take, really; Donghyuck asks Renjun all the questions about the world he’s never been able to force an answer out of the departed souls, and Renjun may or may not have a cheat sheet of Donghyuck’s advice that will make his afterlife a lot easier. Donghyuck already promised to put in a good word with the king of the underworld himself, so Renjun has a level of security when it comes to death that he doubts many people can relate to.

Once they’ve gotten that out of the way, it’s a lot easier to talk about other things.

Small things, like whether Renjun wishes he had siblings, or who his current favourite author is, or if it’s a bad idea to get an apartment with his best friend next year. (“It would be fun, but Jaemin’s _so_ clingy. You don’t get it, Hyuck.”) Small things, like how Donghyuck’s always wanted to try soccer, and he’s thinking about dyeing the tips of his hair purple, and he has a passion for music, even if the death metal of the underworld isn’t his style. After days of shuffling through Renjun’s music, earphones split between them, Donghyuck decides Michael Jackson is his favourite, and proceeds to serenade Renjun for the rest of the bus ride. He has a lovely voice.

Sometimes, they don’t talk at all.

Sometimes, Donghyuck takes one look at Renjun’s hooded eyes, hears the tired lilt to his words, and puts a gentle hand on Renjun’s thigh. Sometimes he whispers, “Sleep,” sometimes he tells Renjun to catch up on that podcast he’s been neglecting, and sometimes he does nothing but ramble in a voice just low enough to lull Renjun to sleep. Either way, Renjun ends up leaning his head against Donghyuck’s shoulder, breaths evening out by the time they’ve even left the stop.

Now, it’s Donghyuck who wakes him up each morning.

-

It’s three months later that Renjun gets the news.

He’s rearranging his schedule for the next semester, just the typical enrollment routine, but somehow, this time around he manages to avoid a single night class. Which means no more graveyard shifts. Which sounds great in theory, and his friends are already making plans to hang out, and his mother is thrilled he’ll finally have a regular circadian rhythm, but, well.

He climbs the steps, catches up with Taeil, and walks back to drop into the seat beside Donghyuck, tangling their fingers together. Donghyuck presses against his side, ever the warm presence, even if his hands still feel like ice.

“What’s wrong?” Donghyuck asks, because he’s perceptive like that. Also, Renjun is quite blatantly sulking.

“I changed my work shift,” he says vaguely, rubbing at a blood stain on one of Donghyuck’s knuckles. It’s old, dried deep in the lines of Donghyuck’s skin.

Donghyuck looks up to meet his eyes. “Is that a good thing?”

Renjun doesn’t know how to properly answer that. “Mostly, yeah.”

“But?”

“But I’ll work mornings.”

Renjun can see the moment realization dawns on Donghyuck. “Oh.” He pauses for only a moment, before he squeezes Renjun’s hand and says, “Guess we gotta make the most of tonight, then.”

Renjun gives him a watery smile. “Guess we do.”

-

“I just want you to know,” Donghyuck starts with a shaky breath, “that you’ve been the best company, and there’s no one I would’ve rather shared the graveyard shift with. You’re special, Huang Renjun. Don’t ever forget that.”

Renjun just looks at him for as long as he can hold his breath, and when he comes back up for air he says, “I hope you know the same is true for you. You gave me a reason to get through the night.”

“Shut up,” Donghyuck says, pulling him into a hug. He presses a firm kiss to Renjun’s temple, knocking his glasses crooked, before releasing him and stepping back a solid foot. “Now go, you’re gonna fuck up our schedule.”

Renjun fixes his glasses and nods, picking up his backpack, making his way to the front of the bus. He gives Taeil one last goodbye, which earns him a sincere, “It’s been a pleasure, Renjun,” and a sad smile.

Then he stops at the door, one foot hovering over the last step. “So this is it, then?” He stares at the scuffed toe of his ugly ass non-slip work shoe that's suspended in midair. “I'll never see you again?”

“You'll see me when you die,” Donghyuck reminds him with a toothy grin as Renjun turns to give him a flat look over his shoulder. “But if you miss me before then, you know where to find me.”

**Author's Note:**

> i've been loving it here in renhyuck nation so brace yourselves, you'll probably be seeing more of me <3
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/mullethyuck)


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